


Still New to This Regressing Thing

by mcschnuggles



Series: Activating Regression Protocol [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Caregiver!Squip, Gen, Non-Sexual Age Play, Regressing!Jeremy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 01:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17315573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcschnuggles/pseuds/mcschnuggles
Summary: Jeremy feels himself start to regress at school.





	Still New to This Regressing Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This is really old but I forgot about it and never posted it.

          “Jeremy.”

           The Squip materializes in front of Jeremy’s desk, and the math lecture fades into the background.

           Jeremy groans. “What now?”

           “It has come to my attention that you’re displaying very little tendencies. You have elevated blood pressure, your tear duct activity is higher than normal, and—” Squip snaps his fingers, sending a minimal jolt through Jeremy’s spine, just enough for him to jerk his fingers out of his mouth “—you won’t stop sucking on your fingers. By my calculations, you have approximately fifteen minutes before you fully slip.”

           Jeremy sits up a little straighter. “Um, what?” He wasn’t even feeling little!

           “This class only has five minutes to go. If you can make it that long, try not to draw any attention to yourself.”

           Jeremy hates his stupid brain so much. Sure, he found a way to deal with stress and be less of a clumsy, stuttering idiot, but now he had the problem of randomly bursting into tears and needing a hug at any given time. It hadn’t happened at school yet, at least not where anyone could see, but that might not be the case anymore. At least he has his Squip to help.

           Time ticks by, and Jeremy quickly discovers that, no, he probably can’t make it another five minutes. He hadn’t been thinking about it before, but now he can’t dismiss the thought of just how anxious he’s feeling. Like, his hands are shaking? Had they been shaking all morning? He thinks he’s gonna throw up.

           Much to his relief, the class wraps up, and the Squip reappears. “Alright, Jeremy. Let’s get you someplace safe.” The Squip floats in front of his line of sight, guiding him out of the crowd. “Come along, now. Focus on me.”

           Jeremy almost trips over his feet at least three times on his way to the bathroom, but thankfully it’s empty when he gets there. He ducks into the stall at the end, sinking to the floor, and tries to take a deep breath.

           He bursts into tears instead.

           He hadn’t realized how tired he was, how  _sad_  he was, until right now. It’s like there’s this massive throbbing mess of  _hurt_  in his chest and the only way he can get it out is by crying. He shudders to think what kind of disaster would’ve taken place if the Squip hadn’t taken the time to warn him. There went any chance he had at being cool.

           “I want my mom.”

           The Squip sighs. Jeremy’s heartbeat is through the roof, and if he doesn’t calm himself soon, he’s going to work himself up into a panic attack. And not only is that unpleasant to go through, it’s ridiculously uncool. “I know you do, and while I don’t have a capacity for treating human sorrow, I have taken it upon myself to download multiple articles on care and comfort.” He pauses, conjuring up new information. “I will be addressing you using multiple comforting, personal nicknames. Please specify whether each is acceptable.” The Squip gestures to the toilet paper dispenser, prompting Jeremy to break off a piece and dry his eyes. “It’ll all be okay, sweetheart.”

           Jeremy grimaces. “Ugh. No.”

           The Squip pauses to remove that nickname from his database of acceptable pet names. “I’ve redirected the pathways in your nervous system to create false sensations of someone holding you.”

           Jeremy sniffles. His face is already red and blotchy. “Snuggles?” He hates to admit that he’d spent the entire morning yearning for a hug, but he’s sure the Squip already knows that.

           “Yes, honeybee. Snuggles.”

           “Yeah, no.” One side of Jeremy’s body felt warm, like he was being held against someone, and his irritation melted away.

           “Very well. Your blood pressure has notably dropped, so we may resume later.” His voice gets louder, like he’s sitting right beside Jeremy. “Close your eyes.” The Squip instructed. “Now recalibrating inner ear.”

           Jeremy felt himself swaying, almost like he was being rocked.

           “Linking olfactory senses with memories.”

           Now the room smelled like his mom. Pumpkin and cinnamon. Jeremy sunk into the wall behind him.

           “Linking positive auditory memories with auditory receptors.”

           The sound of a music box filled Jeremy’s ears, like the one his parents played when they’d tuck him in. With a smile and a yawn, Jeremy curled in on himself. “Can I have a story?” He knew it was lame to ask, but sometimes when he felt small, things like that helped. Besides, being little and stupid was better than being weepy and in between, no matter how much of a pain it was.

           “I’m accessing a database of ideal fairytales right now.” The Squip confirms. There’s approximately three minutes left of this passing period, and by then, he’ll have Jeremy calm enough to get him to the nurse. His calculations finish, leaving him with perfect story. “Once upon a time, there was a pretty prince named Jeremy.”

           Jeremy let out a soft gasp beside him. He hadn’t told anyone about how he liked to be called “pretty,” and no one had told him stories since his mom left.

           “Prince Jeremy had a best friend named Michael. Michael wasn’t a royal, and not many royals approved, but they were best friends and went on all sorts of adventures together. On this particular day, the two of them were adventuring through a bog, an old crypt filled with angry souls. It wasn’t long before they found themselves surrounded…”

           The Squip continues the story, carefully monitoring Jeremy’s heartbeat and brain activity for signs of slowing. He cuts himself off when he feels both go quiet.

           Jeremy’s curled up on the bathroom floor, sleeping soundly. The Squip frowns. Why had Jeremy specifically asked him to do bedtime reminders if Jeremy was going to ignore him and stay up until three in the morning anyway? His AI is still adapting around the ideas of age regression, but he’d gathered enough data to safely assume the lack of sleep had been what triggered Jeremy’s need to be little.

           Still, this is a victory. Finally, Jeremy’s heart rate had slowed. He’d been borderline panicking almost all day, even if he hadn’t noticed it.

           However, on the other hand, Jeremy was also sleeping. In a public bathroom. Noticeably sucking on his fingers. The Squip could only do so much. Sure, he could wake Jeremy up, but there was no guarantee he’d get back to sleep afterward, and the Squip wouldn’t risk that, not when Jeremy so obviously needed rest. No, he needs someone who could physically move him. The Squip sends out a distress call, and Rich arrives within minutes.

           “Hello?” Rich’s voice is hushed. “Jeremy?”

           “Last stall.” The Squip tells him.

           Rich’s Squip—set to Sean Connery settings—eyes Jeremy. Obviously, this behavior was more than a little out of the ordinary, since very few Squips could find reason to have their humans sleeping on a bathroom floor while sucking on their fingers, but Jeremy’s needs were special.

           Rich pulls Jeremy off the floor and jerks his hand from his mouth, causing him to whimper in his sleep. His brow furrows, like he’s about to wake up.

           The Squip administers a light shock up Rich’s spine. “You must be gentler with him. He’s very fragile.” Rich scowls but readjusts his hold so that Jeremy can better lean on his shoulder. “I’ll wake him up enough so that he looks sick, but do not disturb him anymore than that.”

           Jeremy groaned, rubbing at his eyes as he shuffled beside Rich. “Wanna nap…” he mumbled at no one in particular.

           The Squip didn’t have the heart to scold him for talking out loud. “In a moment, Jeremy. You need proper lumbar and neck support in order to rest.”

           Jeremy continues to whimper under his breath on the way to the nurse’s office, which really only helped strengthen their case.

           “He’s just been really out of it.” Rich says, parroting everything his Squip is murmuring to him. “He almost passed out in class, and I know he was really stressed about the history test this morning. I think he also mentioned having a really bad headache?”

           The nurse nods. “He probably just needs rest. Thank you, Rich. You can drop him off in the other room.”

           Rich does so, giving Jeremy’s shoulder a single pat once he’s done. “Feel better soon, dude… Whatever it is that’s going on with you.” The door creaks shut behind him.

           “Can I sleep now?” Jeremy asks.

           The Squip nods. “Now you can nap.”

           Jeremy curls up, tucking his knees against his chest, but before he can even close his eyes again, a familiar voice wafts in from the other room.

           “Hey, can I get my medication? My migraines are acting up again.”

           Brooke?

           “It’s in the back room,” the nurse says. “Please be quiet, though. There’s a sick student in there who really needs his rest.”

           The Squip nods, as if confirming something to himself. “Activating sleep mode.”

           Without his permission, Jeremy’s eyes snap shut and his breathing evens out. Not a second later, Brooke creeps inside. The light from the doorway casts over his eyelids.

           “Jeremy?” Brooke whispers. “Oh no. He looks so pale.”

           The Squip hums in thought. “She knows you’re not feeling well, so I believe you could get away with acting little in front of her if you so desired. She does have a propensity for motherly tendencies, and I’m sure you’re still in desperate need for cuddles.”

           Well, he isn’t wrong. “If you’re sure…” Jeremy says.

           “Of course I’m sure.” The Squip snaps his fingers, and Jeremy’s eyes ease open. He rubs at one eye, trying to hold back his noticeable pout. “Hey, Brooke.”

           “Oh, Jeremy. Are you okay?”

           “Yeah, I think. My head really hurts.”

           “Oh, poor baby.” Brooke coos. She sits on the edge of the chaise, allowing Jeremy to shuffle over and rest his head in her lap. She runs her hand through his hair.

           “Your heart rate has increased again,” the Squip points out. “You don’t have any sexual desire for Brooke… Are you anxious about being little?”

           “Kind of.”

           The Squip slides into his field of vision, his face surprisingly soft. “I won’t let you do anything that could endanger your social status. You know that.” He puts on a semi-comforting smile. “You’re fine, pumpkin.”

           Jeremy bursts into tears.

           “Jeremy, what’s wrong?” Brooke asks.

           The Squip frowns. “Well, that name will certainly have to be erased.”

           “No. Keep it.” Jeremy begs. He then turns to Brooke and says, “My head just really hurts.”

           The Squip does a quick scan through Jeremy’s memories of his mother to confirm that, yes, she used to call him “her pumpkin” when he was smaller.

           Brooke makes a little sympathy noise. “I’m sorry.”

           Jeremy’s eyes drift back to the Squip. “Finish the story?”

           “I do suppose it would be a hassle to have this clogging up my bookmarks.” The Squip flicks his wrist, drawing up a blue screen, and begins to read. “So the pretty prince Jeremy and his best friend Michael had just escaped the bog when they ran into an evil witch…”

**Author's Note:**

> mcschnuggles.tumblr.com


End file.
